Reconstructed
by lannerz
Summary: (AU) Catelyn married Tywin Lannister to ensure the safety of her children. It's become a very strange life for Arya Stark, much different from the first time she lived in King's Landing, and even more difficult to deal with her new family situation. These few chapters describe just a few moments as she grows up under the Lannisters.
1. The Pack Survives

**Author's Notes:** This wasn't supposed to be a chaptered fic, but it turned into one anyways because I had so many requests similar to it. Oops?

**Disclaimer: **GRRM owns all of these characters and also my soul.

**Reconstructed  
**_the pack survives_

Arya prowled the hallways of the Red Keep with a stealth that was unknown to any of the gold cloaks. Every time one of them popped up with the intents of catching her, she would slip away from them with ease. Even with the dress that they had forced her into, she managed to escape all of them. The trick was running barefoot. The new septa that had been given to her upon her return to King's Landing had nearly had a fit when she had realized that Arya had slipped out of her shoes, but there had been no way for that old hag to catch her. There were some old habits that she couldn't be broken of.

As she scaled the outside walls, much like Bran had done at Winterfell before his fall, Arya thoughts jumped all over the place. She needed to focus on where she was stepping, but she couldn't keep her mind from wandering. So much had happened in the past few months, so many things that it was difficult to wrap her head around them at times. Things had been much simpler in the road with the Brotherhood Without Banners, before the Mountain had come down on them suddenly in the night.

_At least some of them escaped,_ Arya thought. In the end, she had sacrificed herself for their lives. Upon finding the real Arya Stark alive, the Lannister men had given up hunting the outlaws in the woods. She had howled loudly and fought wildly enough to distract them all. Arya hopped to another ledge, Gendry's horrified face crossing her mind. The stupid bulk had tried to run back to save her, before Lem had grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled into the bush. She could still hear him screaming her name if she concentrated hard enough when looking into the flames.

"There she is!"

The shout startled Arya, making her wobble. She whipped her head around, catching sight of two gold cloaks in the window down the hall running in her direction. She had just started to really get into the groove of things too; she always did when she dwelled on how this had all started for her. "Seven hells," she grumbled under her breath once she caught her balance again. She hurried along the ledges, not nearly as fast as them, but if she could get to that roof, they would lose track of her again.

She was nearly there too when a hand closed onto her braid. A yelp escaped her; and she nearly fell completely. "Gotcha!" one of the gold cloaks shouted in triumph as he began to pull her inside the castle.

"No!" Arya twisted around and kicked the gold cloak in the face hard. He grunted in pain and let go of her, stumbling back. She grabbed the window to steady herself before leaping to the next ledge and then the window. Her foot throbbed painfully since she'd kicked him barefoot and had hit part of his helm, but she ignored it as she jumped to the little roof. She was breathing heavily as she scrambled across the roof and then jumped to another window ledge. He stood there, trying to catch her breath and watching the gourds curse at her from across the yard. "Stupid heads," she muttered, turning to go to the next ledge.

Without warning, a hand tightly clasped around her arm; and she was pulled inside the castle. When her feet smacked against the stone ground, she yelped in pain again.

Arya started to struggle against her captor, demanding that he let go of her or her lady mother was going to hear about this, when a deep, calm voice said, "And I'm sure she would also agree that what I did was best. Running around those ledges like a wildling – I thought you were smarter than that."

Immediately, Arya stilled and looked up to see that it was Tywin Lannister that had a hold of her. The moment she stopped fighting, his grip on her lessened and she was able to tear her arm out of his hand. "I was practicing," was all she told him.

"Practicing what? Being a cat?" There was an amused lilt in his voice, but no smile on his face to match. One thing she had learned from the many times she had seen him was that Lord Tywin never smiled.

_Close enough,_ Arya thought to herself. She just shrugged her shoulders instead of saying anything out loud. He wouldn't understand. He may have been more understanding and even indulging in her ways than most people, but even he wouldn't be able to understand the things that Syrio had taught her.

Tywin shook his head at her. "Come, child; it is almost time for supper and you look a mess. We're dining with everyone tonight."

Of course she had run to the Tower of the Hand. She almost always seemed to do that when she was panicking, even without realizing it. Arya groaned as she followed him down the hallway. "_Everyone_?" She looked up at him. "The king and...queens?"

Tywin gave her a look. "Yes, everyone, including His Grace, Queen Margaery, and the Queen Regent."Arya turned her face and stuck out her tongue. If Gendry or Hot Pie were here, she would make some sort of joke, but it was just her and the Hand of the King. "Arya, I know that you do not like them, but being around people you don't like is generally what life is about."

There were people you didn't like – and then there were people that you wished dead on a nightly basis.

When they were standing outside of her bedchambers, they stopped and Tywin turned to face her. "Now when your mother asks where you have been all day, what will you say?"

"Pretending to be a cat?"

Again, there was that threat of a smile, but it did not come. Arya thought she had seen him smile once, during the wedding when he had first laid eyes on his wife-to-be, but she couldn't be sure of it and her mother wouldn't say. "You will say that you were riding in town with me. You wanted to get out of the castle and also see what I did as Hand. Hence why you are late for supper: you had to get cleaned up."

Arya furrowed her brow. "But I–"

"Or we could tell her that you were recklessly running around on the window ledges outside the castle and see what punishment she comes up with." The look on Tywin's face was final, one that would've made her gulp if she was not a braver person. She nodded her head. "I thought so. We will actually do that tomorrow. You're growing restless and avoiding Septa Raechel, I've heard. That was Cersei's septa, you know."

"I don't want her septa," Arya blurted.

Tywin looked at her carefully and then opened her door. "Perhaps it is a good thing you were on the road while Joffrey was king," he said to himself as he pushed her inside. He was right though. Arya would've killed Joffrey herself had the Imp not done it before she had been dragged back to King's Landing. To be honest, she didn't mind Tommen. He was actually nice and even somewhat scared of her, though she didn't really know why. All she ever did in front of him was curtsey badly, mutter "Your Grace" a lot, and sulk.

Her handmaidens seemed to appear at a snap of Tywin's fingers, even as he shut the door. They managed to drag her to a tub, stripping her for the dirty dress and tossing her into the tepid water. They scrubbed her clean, not caring to be gentle with her as she was sure they had been with Sansa, but it didn't bother her. Sometimes, the pain felt a little good, though she would never admit it out loud. Once clean, they put her in another dress, a Tully blue one this time. They never let her wear Stark colors anymore. She wouldn't let them touch her hair though. She brushed that herself. It was just now reaching her shoulders. Gendry had said that she was starting to look like a little lady again, a little over a month ago. She'd punched him for that.

She wondered where he was as she meandered to where they would be supping. Normally, it was just her, her mother, and Lord Tywin, but every now and then they ate with everyone. They hoped it would make her more comfortable with everyone, but it just made her feel worse. She didn't know how her mother could handle herself so well, but there were times when she could see the pain in her mother's eyes. Those were the times when Arya wanted to kill everyone and hug her mother fiercely at the same time.

Just as Tywin had predicted, Arya was late for supper, the last one to arrive. There was an empty spot for her in between her mother and Lord Tywin. It was a small relief. She didn't want to sit next to either of the queens. How Sansa had managed to survive all of this on her own, without their mother or anyone, was beyond Arya. She shuffled to the table and sat in her seat.

"How nice of you to join us, Arya," Queen Cersei said, a mocking smile on her pretty face. Arya was half in mind to throw a knife at her and make her ugly. "At least your sister was always prompt."

Arya gritted her teeth and turned to face the king. "My apologies for being late, Your Grace," she said, ignoring the Queen Regent altogether. That would anger her enough.

The little king nearly choked on his peas. "It-it's fine."

"Lord Tywin says you went riding with him through the city today," her mother said. Arya looked up at her as a servant placed food in front of her. "Did you enjoy running around?"

_She knows._ Arya stabbed at her mashed potatoes. "It was fun getting out of the castle. Father never–" She caught herself quickly, but too late. Cersei rolled her eyes and Queen Margaery made a dainty cough. She could see the hurt in her mother's eyes for the briefest of moments before it was replaced with interest. _Stupid head._ How had Sansa done this for so long? "I never knew that the Hand did so much work outside of the castle in the city."

"Well of course, child," Cersei sighed, as if Arya was the stupidest girl she had ever met. "The Hand does more than work with the castle and city; he helps rule all of the Seven Kingdoms."

Arya chewed her food and gripped her fork tightly. She wanted to say how there hadn't been any war when her father had been Hand and how they had all been happy. Everyone had been alive back then, not just her and her mother. She wanted to tell Cersei that she was the stupid one. All of a sudden, she felt a hand on hers and she looked up and saw her mother looking at her, a little smile on her face. Arya felt the anger and tension leave her body.

"Your name day is coming up, is it not?" Margaery brought up.

"Yeah." Arya looked up from her food, noticing that all eyes were on her. "I mean, yes, Your Grace. I'll be ten and two."

"How delightful." When Margaery smiled, she was so pretty, but Arya was sure that there were plenty of other things hidden behind that smile. "Have you thought about what you might want?"

_My family, Nymeria, Winterfell, my mother's freedom, Needle, all of you dead._ None of those were appropriate to say, so Arya settled for, "A horse of my own, maybe. I liked riding back...back when I was younger." She hated having to watch everything she said; she wasn't meant for this kind of life at all. Living on the road with the Brotherhood and Gendry had been easier.

"You're a stronger rider than most girls your age," Tywin added as an afterthought. Her father had said that it was in her blood – that her Aunt Lyanna had been the best rider he'd ever seen and she looked just like Aunt Lyanna.

"I know what we could get her," Cersei said, that venomous smile back on her face. "We could fix that surname of hers. Catelyn is a Lannister in name now, thanks to your marriage, Father, why not–?"

Before Arya could even jump to protest, her mother had let go of her hand and was on her feet. "Don't you dare insult my daughter like that." Arya had never heard her mother sound so cold or angry before. Catelyn Stark (_no, it's Lannister now_) was always a good and proper lady, but she looked close to smacking the queen right in the face. "Feel free to make jabs at me all you like when your father is not around – I know how you need to make yourself feel powerful when you lack true power – but do not presume to think you can act like this towards my Arya."

"The Stark name is rotten and dangerous these days. I only want the safety for my good sister."

_You're not my sister!_ Arya wanted to scream, but the look that Tywin gave her made her bite her lip.

"Arya is a Stark – and she will stay a Stark until she marries or changes her mind otherwise. Besides, nothing could be more rotten than you." Catelyn threw her napkin onto her plate. "It appears as if I've lost my appetite. I'm retiring to my chambers."

And so her mother swept out of the room, leaving everyone shocked. That wasn't how a proper lady acted and talked to the queen. Cersei fumed in her seat while Margaery comforted King Tommen, who looked confused about what had just happened. Arya went to look at Tywin's reaction, but he was already out of his chair and following his lady wife out the door. That left Arya with the queens and king.

"I'm leaving now," Arya said to no one in particular as she jumped out of her chair. She hesitated and snatched a roll before bounding out of the room. Who cared if it was rude? She headed in the direction of her mother's bedchambers when she began to hear voices. She rounded a corner, spotting her mother and Lord Tywin together, and jerked back so that she remained out of sight but could still hear them. Holding onto the roll with both hands, she slid down the wall to sit and listened to them talk.

"This place isn't good for her," her mother was saying. "We had hoped that being here the first time would help straighten her out, but... It's only made things worse."

"Not everyone is meant for the court," Tywin told her, "but the girl is strong and smart. She'll adjust with time."

"If she adjusts to this place, she won't be Arya anymore." Arya closed her eyes and listened as her mother ran her fingers through her red hair. It had begun to dull, with a few grey hairs here and there, but it was still beautiful. She wore it like a Southerner now, as Sansa had done. "Maybe we could send her somewhere to be fostered, someone you trust. There is my sister in the Vale. Now that she and Petyr are married, she is tied to the throne..."

_No!_ As much as Arya hated King's Landing and all the stupid people in it, she hated the idea of leaving her mother even more. It made her feel like a little baby, but she didn't want to be separated from her mother again.

"Do you honestly believe Arya will want to leave you behind?" Tywin asked, speaking the very thoughts on Arya's mind. "After all she went through to be with you again?"

Catelyn sighed. "No, and I don't want to abandon her again." Arya wanted to jump up and run to her mother to hug her. She hated hearing her mother sound so sad. "I just...I worry about her. She is all I have left."

"Catelyn," Tywin said, making Arya peer around the corner. She had never heard him call her mother by simply her name, only by proper titles. What she saw startled her: Tywin had pulled Catelyn into his arms, holding her as Arya's father had once done all those years ago in Winterfell. "I promise you that no harm will befall the girl. Believe it or not, but Cersei was the same way."

Arya frowned at that. _I'm not like that evil queen._

"Though she reminds me of Jaime at that age more, strangely enough," Tywin continued. Arya mused on that. Being compared to the Kingslayer could be just as bad, but he was great with a sword and let her slip out of the castle when he could have easily caught her.

"She does like her swords," Catelyn pointed out. Arya cringed. She thought that she'd been hiding her practice with swords well in the godswood, but it appeared as if Catelyn knew about that as well.

"Then maybe I will get her a sword for her name day, if only to help her feel at more ease. She has been through much. It will make her feel more in control." Tywin was right, no matter how much Arya wanted to deny it. She missed the security having Needle at her side had given her. "But I promise you, Catelyn; I will protect your daughter. When I said the vows, I promised to protect not only you, but her as well."

Arya slipped away after that, unsure of what to make of Lord Tywin's words or the way he had been holding Lady Catelyn. So many strange and confusing things had gone on in the past month: from her capture to news about her brother Robb's death to her mother's wedding to Tywin Lannister to this. Sometimes Arya didn't know how to make sense of any of it.

When she crawled into bed that night, she couldn't help but wish that her father was here to comfort her; that Sansa was here so they could curl up in bed together like they'd done when they were really little; that Gendry was here to tell her that she was being the stupid one now and make her smile. Some time later, she heard her door open and felt someone sit on her bed. When she peered out of one eye, she saw that it was her mother.

Arya reached out blindly in the dark and grabbed her mother's hand. "Mother?" she whispered.

"Yes?"

"I don't need Lord Tywin," Arya said. "I can protect myself. I'll protect us both."

Her mother looked at her; and even in the dark, Arya could sense the sad smile on her mother's tired face. "Oh, Arya..."


	2. Seeing

**Author's Notes:** This would be my second favorite AU that I'm writing, I think. It wasn't even supposed to be a chaptered fic, but people kept requesting for more, so more there is.

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing.

**Reconstructed  
**_Seeing_

Arya had never ridden a more beautiful or wonderful horse before. The sand steed from Dorne was a sandy brown color with a blonde mane; it was lither than large and bulky like most horses she'd seen, so that it could gallop faster and longer. _It's perfect for me,_ she couldn't help but think as she leaned down to run her fingers through its coarse hair. Compared to all the other horses, it was small, not yet fully grown, but she knew in her heart that with the proper training and care, it would be the best horse in all of King's Landing, maybe even Westeros.

She was so captivated with the horse that she did not notice another person riding up next to her. "Do you like her?" a deep voice came about.

Swinging her eyes around and sitting up straight, Arya caught sight of Lord Tywin Lannister atop a taller, white horse. "Yeah – I mean – yes, my lord, thank you." Seven hells, she was still struggling with this living situation months later. How had Sansa managed to survive for so long alone with these people? It was like one moment they were feeding you and the next smacking the food right out of your hands. Lord Tywin was a bad man and she wanted him dead – but then he gave her this beautiful horse for her name day. It was confusing.

"Have you figured out a name for her?"

Arya bit her lip. "I was thinking…Visenya."

"A female warrior's name."

"I named my direwolf after Queen Nymeria of Dorne," she told him without thinking. As soon as the words escaped her, there was a sharp ache deep in her chest, like there was a hole there. Tywin would not understand that kind of pain – no one here could, not even her mother strangely enough – and so she shoved it away. She buried her fingers in the horse's mane and glanced down, wishing she could be alone again. That was when she felt the happiest (and least confused) here.

"Would you like to go for a ride through the city with me?" Tywin asked. Her eyes jumped to him quickly. "I need to check on the construction of the king's new ships."

"I thought they were nearly complete," Arya exclaimed. When Tywin gave her a look telling her that he was curious as to how she'd found that out, she shut her mouth. Instead of telling him that she'd heard it from a kitchen girl who'd heard it from her brother who was sleeping with a whore that had slept with the new Master of Ships, Arya merely shrugged her shoulders. No one noticed her when she was creeping in the shadows.

There was a ghost of a proud look on his face. "That's what was said, but I believe a…surprise check is in order to determine the truth." Arya smiled a little at that. It was like a trick. "People can lie to me, even if they are scared of me, perhaps because of it, but my eyes cannot."

Her thoughts immediately shifted to Syrio, telling her to _see_. She thought that now as she looked at the Lord of Casterly Rock. It was hard to see him though when he constantly seemed to change on her. Only her mother seemed capable of being able to understand and see him; and even then, Arya didn't know how her mother did.

"I want to go," Arya suddenly decided. It would be nice to get out of the Red Keep besides.

Tywin nodded and then forced his horse to trot away while barking out a few orders. She continued to pet her horse, trying not to think about Nymeria and Syrio anymore, until she saw Tywin look back at her and she knew that it was time to leave. Somehow, instinctively, the horse knew how to follow Arya's lead, trailing after Tywin's horse. She smiled to herself, thinking back to all the times she'd raced Jon back to Winterfell; she'd almost always beat him by the time she turned eight. He'd be flustered yet laughing and swoop her off her horse, telling her how fast she was.

"You ride very well," Tywin said, as if sensing her thoughts.

"I've been riding as far as I can remember," Arya explained, her thoughts further and farther away from this place. She glanced at him, but only for a moment before looking away again. "My father, he…"

She couldn't go on any further though. Talking about her old life, about her father, about the past with Tywin Lannister felt like a betrayal of everything she had once held dear. All of those things were dead and gone forever thanks to this man and his family. This new, strange life had replaced her old one; and she was never getting it back. Tywin could not take Eddard Stark's place in Arya's heart, but she could not deny that she sometimes yearned for the same interactions with Tywin as she once had with her father.

_I don't need him to be proud of him,_ she told herself furiously, but as she gripped the reigns tightly, she knew that was a lie.

"I taught Cersei and Jaime at a young age as well," Tywin said, continuing as if Arya had not fallen away into a brooding silence. "Cersei learned faster. Jaime always preferred to be on foot, so he could be more sure of his sword, but Cersei wanted to be swift and travel."

"I've always liked traveling," Arya said quietly, more or less to herself. More than anything, she wanted to go all the way to the Wall, so she could see Jon again. She wanted to hug him and have him muse her hair and call him "brother" and everything. She wanted him to give her a tour of the Wall that protected the North and keep her there in the cold and never let her go. But she knew that neither Lord Tywin nor her mother would allow it. Maybe she could travel to Dorne on Visenya if they ever went to visit Princess Myrcella. Visenya might like going back home.

Tywin looked at her sideways. "Perhaps one day we can." Arya looked up at him curiously, hopefully. "I could take you and your mother to Casterly Rock and you could tour Lannisport."

"That's where Uncle Edmure is being held," she blurted out, immediately turning red.

He just nodded his head though. "This is true. Your mother would be very pleased to see him, yes?"

"I've never met him, but she won't ever talk about him," Arya replied, somewhat edgily. "She misses him."

"She talks of no one outside of her life here," Tywin mused out loud. Arya just nodded her head to herself. Whenever she tried to ask her mother about her uncle, her mother would simply change the subject. It hurt sometimes, but Arya knew that it was done out of self-defense.

Arya gnawed on her bottom lip. "It hurts too much to talk about some things."

"You do not talk much either," Tywin said, giving her a careful look. She turned her face away from him. "The septa says you almost never speak during lessons; and you aren't making any friends with any of the other highborn girls."

"They're stupid,"Arya mumbled.

"They were your sister Sansa's friends."

"No they weren't," Arya snapped, glaring up at him. "They weren't her friends at all. They're all fake, stupid girls and all they do is talk about boys and when they're going to be married and then told on Sansa to the Queen. That's not what friends do." She thought of Gendry, who had known who she was, who had kept her secret locked inside of him even though he could've gotten more gold than he'd ever had before by turning her in. "Friends don't tell on each other."

Tywin arched an eyebrow. "How do you know that they spied on your sister for the Queen?"

"I spent time with them once because I knew it would make Mother happy," Arya grumbled, feeling upset just thinking about that day. She hated those girls. They were nothing like Gendry or Hot Pie, both of whom had been better friends. They weren't like Jon, who had given her Needle, or even Micah the butcher's son, who had played sword fighting with her and had died for it. "They asked me all sorts of questions and giggled, like I was stupid or a joke; and then the next day the Queen knew everything that I'd told them." She frowned. "You can't trust anyone here. I couldn't then and I can't now."

For a while, neither of them said anything and Tywin just stared her down. She almost couldn't stand it, so she kept her eyes on the dirt road ahead of them. People weaved on and off the crowded market street. Any one of these people could've been a spy for someone in the Red Keep. The thought was disheartening. _You shouldn't be talking to him so much,_ she told herself, but it was so difficult not to when she felt so alone. King's Landing could never be a home to her, even with her mother here now.

"You're not happy here," Tywin stated. Arya did not bother looking at him or shaking her head. He knew that he was right. It was plainly written on her face and everything she did. "Your mother does not like it here either, though she's adjusted better than you. She thinks it stifling – and she is right. I can see this place weighing down on you." He couldn't have been more right about that. There were days when she seemed to only be able to get up because of how angry she was. "I was told that last time you were here, you had a dancing master?"

Arya smiled sadly. "Syrio Forel. He-he never judged me for who I wasn't." He taught her how to be proud of who she was, how to see, how to feel, how to listen, how to be brave and fight. He had died protecting her; and she'd never gotten the chance to thank him properly.

"I was thinking that perhaps you could restart your dancing lessons," Tywin said. Arya gave him an alarmed look, her eyes wide and mouth opened slightly. He'd probably misunderstood that bit of knowledge, just like everyone else had. Sansa had thought that she was learning how to girly dance. Arya did not want to get stuck in dancing lessons since she couldn't just refuse Lord Tywin's offer. "Obviously I cannot give you the same instructor, so it will take some time finding you a new one."

"There are no good ones here." Maybe, if she made it seem like too much trouble, he'd give up and she wouldn't have to learn how to dance.

"No, not in King's Landing, perhaps not even in Westeros," Tywin replied as he brought his horse to a stop, "but in the Free Cities…"

Arya's eyes lit up in a way that hadn't happened since she'd first laid eyes on her mother again in the Red Keep. "For true?"

"You do remind me of Cersei," Tywin told her, gazing at the ships being built in the harbor. "She wanted a sword like Jaime, but she was destined for gowns and a crown. I took those dreams away from her and gave her new ones, but I can tell that I cannot do that with you. It will only make you rebel more. When I realized that, I knew that despite your sex, you are more like Jaime. You have skills that should be nurtured, not squandered away."

Arya did not want to hope, but she couldn't stop herself. This was the first time since coming back that she felt like she could survive here. It would be ironic that the man she wanted dead would be the one to give her the means to make it so, but she felt absurdly thankful to him. This gift would be even greater than her new horse. It was more than she could ever dare to hope for here. Maybe Lord Tywin saw her for who she was as well, and not who everyone thought she was supposed to be.

Smiling to herself, she looked out to the ships and pointed. "The ships – they look only half-done."

"Then you are seeing what I am seeing," Tywin said, "a _lie_." He was certainly not pleased and she knew that someone would be in trouble, but she did not feel threatened by him herself. "Shall we pay the Master of Ships a visit?"

"Yes,"Arya replied immediately, feeling excitement and nervousness bubbling up inside of her.

"Follow me and watch carefully," Tywin told her as he smoothly swung off his horse. "This will be your fist lesson from me."


End file.
